


Eliatropes are Aliens

by Erkainlyn



Category: Wakfu
Genre: Aliens, Eliatropes, Emelka, Emelka and its citizens, Gen, Mostly Yugo Being weird and Alibert just rolling with it, Will add tags as the series goes on, Yugo's Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erkainlyn/pseuds/Erkainlyn
Summary: Eliatropes aren't humans, Nor are they in any way, related to humans, They have been around since the dawn of time along side dragons. It makes Total sense that they would have quirks special to their species. This series of Oneshots will explore them, their lore and more. Eliatrope hats, instinct, dragons, etc.I'm not to sure if I got the ratings right, I'll try to clarify at the beginning of each chapter.this is also a series of personal headcanons I have for the eliatrope race, as well as some things we never get explained in the show.**I DONT OWN WAKFU**
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. What's the meaning behind a name

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter contains mentions of being nonverbal, and inattentive. Yugo kind of flips out a little bit but its nothing to big, regardless if your sensitive to that, you should know before reading it. (:
> 
> Apologies if the formatting is strange I'm a tad bit new and I am unused to the system. I am more focused on getting used to writing fanfics in general rather then all the editing surrounding it, so if there is a problem it may not be solved for a good while.

The sun had long set, subtle candle light lit the pantry, that Alibert was currently stocking. Mostly rice, some flour... he was so bad at making bread. Welp good thing Jason was good at it.

_ Pat,pat,pat,pat,pat,pat  _ Alibert turned to the sound of fast approaching footsteps. A dirty blond mop of a child ran in, his silly hat swinging behind him. The child ran so fast he collided and bounced off of Aliberts leg. Az the little Tofu was chirping fast enough to have a heart attack

“Woah, what's the rush bryce” Alibert had to bend down to see the tiny child and tofu who landed on his son’s hat. Bryce looked up, a determined look on his face.

“Em Yugo now,” Yugo said back, looking at Alibert excitedly. A dopey grin covered half the child's face. Alibert kneeled down with a smile but also an expectant look.

“aren’t you supposed to be in bed mister yugo” Alibert questions. Bryce pauses, then looks a little guilty. Alibert picked him up, Byrce was too good a kid sometimes. Most kids wouldn’t get so down at staying up.

“We’ll continue this game tomorrow morning, promise” Alibert adds, climbing up the stairs, Byrces hand in his. Bryce’s brow furrowed Before he vigorously shook his head with a frown and scrunched up face

“No game” Bryce affirmed. I’m yugo” Az chirped in confirmation.

“Okay  _ Yugo _ , it's still your bedtime, you can tell me all about yourself tomorrow.” Alibert gently set Byrce on his bed, and tucked him in.

“Goodnight dad”

“Goodnight Yugo” Alibert closed the door behind him gently. Before going back to stock the pantry. It wasn’t every night that Bryce got up past his bedtime. he was so well-behaved, he’d always go to bed on time, with only a little begging and complaining. It was so easy to let the consequences slide… Did that make him a bad parent or a good one?

The next morning Alibert got up before Bryce, which was rare, but exciting. It was a free day for them, Alibert decided to make breakfast.

“BRYCE” Alibert yelled" I MADE BREAKFAST” 

The boy's familiar tiny footsteps sounded fast down the stairs. When alibert turned with a plate full of food he was surprised to see the angry expression on the normally docile child's face.

“My names Yugo” Bryce asserted, his voice strong and stubborn. Alibert smiled, guess Byrce remembered.

“Alright Yugo, lets have breakfast then.” Alibert smiled. Bryce perked, a grin appearing on his face. Byrce hopped along as Alibert herded him to the table. Bryce wasted no time jumping to his seat, fidgeting restlessly. He ate his rice and peppers.

“What's the plan today Yugo?” 

The child didn’t answer until his plate was clean. Byrce gave a big grin, as he finished the hearty meal. Az the stupid bird also finished its meal, and then some. Its stomach was too heavy for it to fly, It was only funny the first few times.

“Can I play with Toto today?” Byrce yelled, his excitement giving him a bounce in his chair. The tofu gave a little bounce to, its cheeks full of food.

“Inside voice” Alibert reminded me. He thought about it. Most of the chores were done yesterday...

“We have a few responsibilities to handle first. Think you can help your old man”

Yugo grinned "Yes Dad!” He sprung up with his usual energy, plate in hand to the water basin. "so when done can I go to toto’s?”

“Of course you can, as long as he has his chores done too” Alibert confirmed as he made his way to Bryce's side. He got to work washing the dishes letting Bryce dry the less fragile among them. Next was the piwi eggs.

The morning chores were nothing Bryce wasn’t used to, yet, Alibert started to notice that Bryce was even more distant then he usually was. That was saying a lot. Despite Bryce’s willing obedience he often zones out for long periods of time, going completely inattentive, nonverbal and at times completely unresponsive. 

This was different, Bryce went through the motions but... almost angrily? The only word he could find to describe it was distant and irritated. When Bryce did hear what Alibert had to say he wore confusion.

Bryce was a particularly unusual child, and Alibert had no experience parenting. All Alibert knew was that he wasn’t going to be like his own parents. Alibert had himself and Bryce talk about their feelings from the day in the evenings so Alibert could process them. then implement them into his parenting style. This wasn’t the first time Bryce's attitude felt strange…. There's a time and a place, and morning chores were not it, so Alibert decided to shrug it off until then. 

“Byrce!” Alibert called”Bryce please try to focus” Alibert hauled a barrel up to his shoulders. Bryce looked up an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes glazed in thought like always. Alibert rolled his eyes, Bryce usually jumped through his chores before play. Alibert sighed, maybe it was better to face whatever was really bothering Bryce sooner rather than later. Alibert put the empty barrel down in their cellar. He came back up with a look that instantly made Bryce squirm. He looked up at his father.

“Can I go play with Toto now?” he asked, avoiding eye contact. Alibert gently nodded, Bryce was astounding at reading the mood, maybe this could wait. He was probably overthinking, after all he had no experience with kids. His friend Jason was the one to help him with Byrce. It was good they were visiting today. Plus he couldn't say no to his piwi. Bryce immediately ran off, or more like awkwardly fast walked off.

“Woah there, I’m coming with you” Alibert yelled to the blond who was already farther along. Alibert picked up the pace, he was rather uncomfortable with the notion of Bryce alone. Jason and his kids lived closer to town, Bryce would be safe, but Bryce was still young.

Emelka was having its morning rush hour, the market having its morning smell of fresh produce. Jason's house wasn’t far, Bryce was running circles around him, eager to get there. 

“Save some for the play date” Alibert chuckled, Bryce didn’t smile back at him. Which was rather unusual for the hatted mop of sunshine. Alibert made a note to self, he needed to talk to Bryce this evening. Bryce was always rather fond of bedtime, and the odd rituals he had surrounding it. Alibert sighed he had come to expect odd behaviors from Bryce. It was very possible that Bryce was having some unique child like problem. He had never woken up after being tucked in before, he should have sensed something amiss earlier.

Wait no, he was probably overthinking again, oh enutrof he’ll just consult Jason.

Yugo heard the gears in his father's mind and decided to speed up. Especially when Jason's house was in sight. Before Alibert could see it, he heard shrieks of delight coming from the kids. Alibert made his way to Jason.

“I hope we didn’t interrupt anything,” Alibert laughed. Jason smiled

“Your welcome to try” 

The two friends shook hands.

“Don’t worry bout it, we made some doe this morning, and we’re just taking a break while it rises” Jason explains Alibert nodded, turning his gaze to the kids

“You mind If I ask something?”

“You just did” Jason laughs. Bryce's tiny flip out about his name flitted in and out of memory

“Is it normal for kids to want a new name or something similar?” Alibert asks, Jason’s laugh slows to a chuckle.

“Mia must have given herself several different names with her friends” Jason pats Alibert on the back, laughing. Albert nodded, he looked up, closing his eyes, listening to the sound of the playing children. 

He did keep hearing the name Yugo. Alibert looked back down, to see Toto and Mia calling Bryce, Yugo. They both seemed to just start calling him that immediately, like kids do.

The walk home was refreshing. Bryce was worn out from all his rough housing, and kept pace with him. The evening brought a subtle chill to the warm day. The very air itself tinted blue. The crickets began to take courage for the night. All in all, it was a beautiful walk. Alibert reached out for his sons hand, who actively turned away from it

“Bryce?” Bryce didn’t answer, didn’t respond either, as if Alibert never even spoke. "Bryce is there something on your mind” Bryce didn’t even flinch. Alibert sighed

“Is this because I’m not calling you Yugo?” Alibert asked quietly, stopping their walk, to keep the outside's peaceful atmosphere. Bryce nodded his head, tears in the corners of his eyes. Alibert felt sad with him as he always did. Alibert looked around before his gaze settled on a log near the path.

“Why don’t we sit on that perfectly good log.” Alibert suggests. Bryce looks confused but doesn’t protest as Alibert picks him up.

“what ‘s wrong with the name Bryce?” Alibert gently asks, letting his son separate himself from their embrace. Bryce tears up, Alibert was a bit put off at the lack of sound, it was just silent tears.

“S’not my name” Bryce wails. Alibert hugs him

“Why’s it not your name?” Alibert asks again.

“It’s Yugo” His son cries, Alibert sighs, He looks up trying to think of something to say. What you were called didn’t seem like a big deal to Alibert. Then again Aliberts own family had begged him to change his name once and he never did. It still didn’t feel like a serious enough issue for a kid to cry over unless something happened to make Bryce dislike it.

“Why do you want to be called Yugo, did someone make fun of your name Bryce” 

His son vigorously shakes his head again, tears streaming down his face. A Silence followed. Bryce sensed Alibert was looking for an explanation of some kind. Bryce looked around at anything that wasn’t Alibert. His gaze landed on the fireflies, which were becoming their main light source. His son let out a sniff.

“Toto and Mia called me Yugo” Bryce Whimpered.

“Oh Yugo, it doesn’t matter what you're called, I’m Just concerned as to why the sudden change. Is there something wrong with Bryce? '' Alibert prods. Bryce nods

“Bryce’s not my name” Yugo shifts as he says it. Alibert sighed, and looked into space, thinking. How could he figure this out.

“How does Bryce make you feel?” Alibert tries, feeling cheesy, but having loving intention. Bryce shifts, pausing to take some consideration.

“I don’t like it” Yugo sniffed

“Is there a reason” Alibert gently prods. Yugo sat in thought, pondering his emotions with confusion.

“Bryce is bad… for me”

Alibert sighs, perhaps this was a conversation for another time.

“I can call you Yugo if it's that important to you.” Alibert assured, but Yugo looked distressed again, he shook his head.

“Not call, my name’s Yugo” He loudly whined, the child's high pitch voice quieted the forest for a moment. Alibert was so confused, what was the difference? Alibert relaxed, there was no point to this battle. It didn’t matter what his child was, or what he was called, he loved him to incarnum and back. Alibert just hopes there won’t be any ramifications from this as he ages. 

The log creaked as Alibert got up, picking Bry-Yugo up. His son lightly tried to resist it. Obviously his son was too exhausted, his heart wasn’t in this fight. Nor did Alibert have the heart to tell Yugo that his name was Bryce. If Alibert could Just figure out why, what if this just happened again. Would Bryce, or Yugo get a new name every time they were tired of the last.

Alibert entered the home, and got the fire going. Bryce had developed a little shiver while out. Alibert sat back in his chair, with his son in his arms and sighed contentedly. Falling asleep was easier.... Alibert decided... when His son was near.

The next morning He once again was up before Yugo. The boy in question was still sleeping cuddled with his father. Alibert got up, Minding his son, making sure He was kept asleep. The blond groggily opened his eyes as he was moved to Aliberts Chagrin.

“It's okay you can sleep in today.” Alibert whispered. Bryce was up in a second after he heard that.

“I can Help!” Bry-Yugo? Tiredly shouted.

“Inside voice” Alibert instinctively reminded. Yugo didn’t pay any mind to the warning, instead opting to wander out to get the piwi eggs, his sleepiness leaving with each step. Alibert shook his head with a smile. Getting the pot ready for cooking. Bryce rushed back, with the eggs, putting them in the basket. Then ran to the window, pointing to the light from the soon to rise sun.

“When the sun shines Bright, the guests are in sight!!!” Bryce shrieks, Alibert winces. He once again was going to remind Bryce not to be so loud, Until he saw him start rushing his chores.

“Woah there, you had quite the late night, slow your role”

“But I wanna help!”

And he did help, the entire morning. Alibert called him Yugo, it felt strange to suddenly flip the script. 

When the guests started entering, Yugo hopped over to take their orders, eager to help. No worries, Yugo knew which patrons he could help, and which ones he should let Alibert deal with.

Yugo went in and out, food and orders constantly in his grasp. His boundless energy helped fuel Alibert as well. Until he came in crying. Alibert rushed over

“What happened?” Alibert asked 

“Why is everyone calling me Bryce?” 

“Oh this again” Alibert thought. Alibert truthfully wasn’t sure what to do. Alibert hesitated before speaking "Bryce is your birth name… It's what everyones been calling you your whole life, I’m sure if you ask them to call you Yugo, and keep reminding them, they’ll come around.” Alibert explains.

“But my names never been Bryce,” Yugo cries. A silence follows Alibert really wasn’t sure what to do. What was he supposed to say to that, what did that even mean. Alibert paused, took a moment to really think about it. 

Alibert will admit, Yugo was always so complacent and cool with everything. Helping too much was Yugo’s main flaw, and that was good wasn’t it. But more mainly, Yugo had a focus problem, he always had a hard time responding when Alibert called for him, or told him anything.

It was something you could tell when you first met him, even if he was listening, he never gave eye contact. It was as if he was in his own world. Alibert realized that that hadn’t happened at all during this whole name thing. Yugo had been more attentive than he had ever been… possibly in his whole life.

Alibert looked at his son, their eyes meeting, full confidant eye contact, completely in the moment. How long had Alibert been trying to stir Bryce into the moment, only to be met with a glazed look. Could it be he was responding to his shout rather than the call. That all this time he just internally referred to himself differently.

“ _ This child and this Tofu are very special” _

The message came lazily rolling in the forefront of his mind. This wouldn’t be the first time he found something strange about Yugo. Alibert was starting to think there wouldn’t be an end to surprises the boy had in store. 

Alibert hugged Yugo, "Yugo,...these things take time” Alibert added patting his son on the back. Alibert would spend all day with his son but…

“Think you can still help out with the guests… maybe we’ll even make some sort of announcement.”

Yugo wiped his tears away before vigorously nodding. Hugging his dad before hopping along.


	2. Looking For Something (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragons are a big part of the eliatrope race, so we'll be exploring them as well. This Chapter focuses on dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so some people may not know this (I didn't when I started watching Wakfu), but there is more to the Wakfu Universe then what you see on Netflix  
> It may seem like there are a lot of ocs, but they are all canon characters! (except one, but don't worry it's kept short). the three main characters you'll see don't show up in the wakfu series, but their children do.  
> edit: I forgot a couple of passages to the story-whoops

**(The Scholars)**

Dragon... such a powerful word to utter in this day and age. The Word was and still is, verbalized by many. Whether it be for the sake of a simple story or a grand sermon in an ancient temple. It held perplexing bewilderment, wondrous inspiration, and unspeakable strength and mystery in its meaning.

The word for a species long gone from the world of twelve, So ancient there was no telling if they had once been real. If it weren’t for Osamodas’ insistence and the stories from the rare few who saw the mighty beasts, no one would ever be the wiser of their existence.

Scholars could tell you every little thing and theory about Dragons, and most will do it obsessively. They could spout what they knew about dragons like a fountain with an ocean for a water source. What they wouldn’t do to have the opportunity to pick Osamodas’ brain for the coveted knowledge. If only more factual information could be recovered. Scales, Skeletal remains, fossils, anything! Something to see, something to study, physical evidence for the people who grasped at nothing but grand legends and tales. 

The Tales of dragons were known far and wide. Everyone found a reason to love them. There was nothing to dislike, other than being too close to one. It was agreed, Dragons were of immense size, unmatched by any large creature in the world of twelve. Everyone agreed that yes, Dragons could breathe fire and that nothing could pierce their impenetrable hyde.

Cra’s knew that a Dragon’s eyes were the most accurate to ever be. The Iops knew the overwhelming strength a dragon possessed, Oh what they wouldn’t do to fight one. They’d die for sure, but oof, it would be worth it. The Enutrof could admire the immaculate hoards they were known for protecting. Steal from a dragon… well, if you saw their hoard, you won’t get to steal from them. 

The Feca’s could see the wisdom, Eniripsas and Sadidans thanked their fire of life, For what would be without it. Sram, ecaflips, and rogues, Mischief, fortune, and trouble. Xelor could admire their patience, a pandawa, their naps, and a Sacrier, their pain tolerance. Finally, Osamodians boasted of being related to them. Insisting that dragons were the center of the universe.

Dragons, at least in legend, had it all. They were the whole world made one. It was no wonder they could create it all. They probably had more qualities to add to the list of wonderments to be found in their legends.

Of course, there were the downsides of having such hideously powerful beasts around. Bonta had burned, and Some Dragons stole and pillaged, But Srams, Rogues, and a few Sacriers were quite happy with that… as long as they weren’t on the receiving end.

Unfortunately, the only ones to confirm these legends were a few minor gods and even fewer major ones. Osamodas, despite his absence, never passed the chance to give an undeniable testament to his favorite beasts.

Dragons themselves were extinct… or at least they are incredibly endangered. There have been reports of dragon sightings every couple of centuries. It’s very possible that dragons could still be among us. After all, their ability to shapeshift granted them stealth in plain sight. There could be lots more dragons than we think.

The most notable of these recent sightings, that don’t stretch to ancient times, are few and far between. The first report being from so long ago that it was slowly fading into obscurity. However, the scorch marks surrounding Bonta made the occasion hard to forget. An angry Black Dragon had burned the poor city to the ground in pure rage, No one could remember why. 

The few adventurers that dared sale by Ogrest and survived boasted of having seen the Dragons surrounding the peak at which the ogre cried.

The most recent sighting was of a blue dragon flying straight into Bonta. It circled the city for hours until the fearful politicians motioned to try to communicate with it. The Blue scaled wonder heard the city’s Beck and call, landing with such grace.

Why?, Why was the fiery serpent here of all places. Hopefully, it had nothing to do with a particular past incident. The long-necked blue dragon sat up eloquently,

“I’m looking for something,” the dragon wailed.” I must have it”

The dragon continued to look around bonta while the citizens feared for their lives and their city. Horrific anxiety had filled their city… Were they harboring what the dragon was looking for, And if so, what was it, would they burn for it?

Soon many had gathered to give the dragon all they had to protect their fair city. The dragon’s interest and delight fueled the Citizens’ actions. The dragon looked through each gift meticulously.

A jewel embedded in a giant medallion of gold caught the Dragons’ fancy. Indeed the artifact was unlike anything before or after it. After the Dragon was done looking through each of the gifts. It declared the golden jewel must be what it was looking for and took off with it.

The citizens sighed a sigh of relief. They were safe, Bonta was not a collection of coal and ash, and the dragon had only taken one thing. A grand celebration was held. After all, who wouldn’t want to celebrate the appearance of a mighty dragon.

The Party was interrupted by leathery flaps of dragon wings. The sound was accompanied by terror as the dragon dropped the jewel, declaring it was not what it had been looking for.

People began to panic as the dragon not only flew around town but entered buildings in search of its mystery item. Scholars looked into every record and book in the library, trying to figure out what to do to appease the dragon.

One day a scholar went into the library to see the dragon searching through the records. The scholar, feeling so eager to be close to the dragon, decided to stay but gave the beast a wide berth. The Dragon froze as it peered into a book about speculated ancient history. The scholar could tell it was no longer reading, just staring at the contents. The Dragons Expression twisted into an unreadable yet definitely awed and shocked face. The dragon seemed to stand frozen for ages.

They took the book… and the scholar, nothing else.

The scholar returned a week later, proclaiming the dragons were looking for something. He claimed to know nothing else.

* * *

**(Osamodas Dragons)**

Osamodas looked out upon the grey horizon, nothing but twigs poking from it. Osamodas had been to many worlds, many places, but none as dead as this. Even after the Deity goes on his destructive sprees, they never got this bad. Osamodas was in awe at the empty planet.

His dragons flew around, exploring this empty place. Ouronigride Looked over it with an unimpressed expression. The Dragon didn’t have to look around, He already knew there would be nothing living on this wasteland.

Helioboros and Spiritia flew around in disbelief and morbid curiosity. Spiritia more so than his fellow dragons. It simply couldn’t be, But even as he thought it, he knew it to be so. This world was nothing more than dunes upon dunes of dust. Helioboros seemed annoyed. The planet didn’t even have wind or a breeze, the air was eerily still, Yet the dark grey lifeless gravel still managed to taint his silver-white scales.

Osamodas bent down to take a handful of the strange planet’s crust. The dirt definitely used to be a soil of some kind, but now it was a combination of rocks and powdery dust with glittery fragments. Osamodas let it seep from his hand to the ground, All of it obeying gravity, none of it dissipated, there was no wind to grasp it from its drop. The nearby, black metallic ocean wet the dust into a toxic looking sludge.

Osamodas felt sick as something curdled up his spine, he shrugged it away, but it still managed to fill his throat and weigh him down like it was a tether. There was something undeniably wrong with this place.

The Dragons began to circle, their adventure coming to a quick close as they realized there was nothing to find, nothing to conquer. Osamados never thought he would be so thankful for their noisy flaps and gargantuan sounds. If he was left in this silence, he’d go crazy, more beastly than he had ever been. Yet something about this place’s energy had him feeling repulsed at the idea of giving into beastly instincts.

The Dragons began to close in, but it felt wrong. There was no plant life to burn, no, nothing. What was this place? He wanted to leave. They had to go. Something began to settle in Osamodas’s gut, a feeling of unmatched disgust. This dark grey- green tinted color was his least favorite color!

The Dragons landed. Osamodas looked up to peel himself away from the freakish nature that surrounded this horrid floating rock. He did feel better at seeing the stars, but it sickened him to see that this place didn’t even have a proper atmosphere. The Dragons were no longer in the sky… where did they go?

The Dragons huffed, Osamodas jerked his head back down to see the dragons sitting in front of him.

“You alright?” Spiritia was the first to ask. He didn’t look concerned but asked anyway. His voice boomed but kept a tranquility that seemed to be necessary for the harrowingly sacred place. The other two looked as if they weren’t paying attention. Osamados straightened, regaining a posture he was unused to.

“I’m Fine,” He growled with a hint of disdain. It came out forced. This world’s air had coated his throat. Nothing had ever unsettled Osamodas like this before. Morbid curiosity filled him, Osamodas nodded to himself. This place, the only thing that made him feel this way, it must be a challenge.

“...Are you sure.” 

The voice rang. It took a moment to realize that Ouronigride was the one to say it. Osamodas swallowed thickly.

“Yes, There’s nothing here. We should take this opportunity to rest before we continue to the next world.” Osamodas declared. The dragons gave a puzzled pause before nodding. Osamodas growled at realizing there was no forest or even a cave to be in. He would feel better once he got over whatever this place was.

“Ecggkkh,” the disgusted growl came From Helioboros, who lifted a leg from the wet ground. A loud _Squelch_ and a crunchy powdery sound accompanied the action. Osamodas wanted to puke. Instead, he turned to walk away from this world’s horrid metallic ocean.

Osamodas went out of it for a while, trying to figure out what was happening to him. What was this feeling? Was it the lack of wilderness? No, that wasn’t it. Osamodas could live in the space in between worlds for ages. What this world lacks had nothing to do with it.

He felt like he was left in suspense, like looking at someone trying to keep their decapitated head-on in absolute horror. The thought of silly mortals doing horrifically funny things to try and extend their life usually made him laugh. The chaotic, bloody hilarity of it all was amusing,

But not here.

Here it felt just as horrific as it truly was. Was this what it was like to feel mortal. Osamodas had never been so thoughtful, but maybe it was the lack of bloodshed. The lack of activity that this wasteland provided. All he could do here was feel and think.

A few days passed, the strange planets’ silence was getting to everyone, the dragons snapped more vigorously and viciously than usual. The Dragons frequently peered at Osamodas. The Deity’s behavior was too abnormal to not notice. Osamodas did his personal investigation of the feelings he couldn’t conquer… yet.

A furious bunch of loud roars finally broke through Osamodas’s musing. He shook his head from his strange thoughtfulness. He turned, his mouth twisted into a wild snarl, but his eyes lacked their usual animalistic charm.

The Dragons were fighting, not unusual for them, the chaotic actions soothed the feeling in his gut, just a little. Helioboros and Ouronigride were tearing each other apart in festered rage.

A stupid Grin appeared on Osamodas the conquerers’ face as he walked up to Spiritia. A wild, twisted raspy howl comparable to a cheer sounded automatically from Osamodas’s throat as the fight went down.

“Ouronigride was hungry, I guess,” Spiritia said as if it explained everything. Spiritia had an unimpressed look on his face as he looked at his fellow primordials. Suddenly there was a distortion, a strange change in the world.

Osamodas jerked at the strange twist in his gut at the change. He looked up to see that Spiritia had felt it too. His gaze was locked on the Dragons, who were still voraciously skinning each other. They had started to breathe fire, their anger and magic coming out with it. Osamodas’s eyes widened as he felt a shift in the air. It wasn’t wind.

Wakfu, this place had no wakfu, the very energy of life itself, was absent from this world, and… Stasis, an energy of pure destruction, was nowhere to be found. 

Absence, that was the only word Osamodas could find. This was a world of absence. It was impossible! A world lacking both the energy of creation and the energy of destruction was impossible. You had to have one, this place should be full of stasis, but it was absent. Creation was impossible, But destruction was impossible too. This place was just here, with all things that make up the laws of the Krosmos absent. 

There were no laws of physics to enforce the wind, No life, No destruction. No yeses, No, nos. Osamodas was beginning to believe that time itself ceased here. The energies that enforced the laws of reality, and space and time… were absent.

This place was the product of a different kind of destruction that Osamodas hoped he would never face. Something so destructive that this area was close to reverting to what it was before the big bang, simply nothing. A place couldn’t just be like this. Something had to have happened here. This wasteland was not natural! Osamodas looked around with new eyes. He felt stupid for not seeing the horrific signs for what they were before.

_War_

The sheens of metallic rocks on the surface had new meaning, for instead of rock, he saw weapon chippings. So many that there had to have been millions, enough to be turned into sand, creating the glittery powder it was today.

Osamodas looked forward. Helioboros and Ouronigride were too enthralled in their bloody tussle to notice. But their magic was causing the wakfu to reawaken. The dirt below the fighting dragons looked a little less grey and more of a healthy brown.

A shudder of relief ran up Osamodas’ spine. Recovery was possible. The shift in his gut had merely sensed the change that the fighting dragons had created. This world no longer felt as empty as it had been, as if nothing should exist here. Despite the relief, something rose up in Osamodas chest. It took him a moment to process that it was pain.

Osamodas shook, something he had never done before. His ears felt full. Noises filled them until the sounds couldn’t anymore and continued to spill out of his face. The vibrations rattled his whole body, grabbed the pit in his stomach, and started jerking it as if to find a way to stab him with it from the inside.

Creation had reentered this world, and the spirits that had been dormant were still screaming. They were all collective screams of terror, bloodlust, mourning, and _war._

One could be heard more clearly than the rest as if it wasn’t associated with the millions of others that had all preyed on Osamodas who was the only one listening.

No, this one was different.

this curdling deep noted shrieking was completely separate from the rest. It was desperate as if it was begging him to listen, yet it was actively forcing Osamodas to hear it as if it was still alive.

**“Hart, I will have My Hart, and every single one of you will be massacar_ed!”**

As soon as he felt and heard it, Osamodas pushed the spiritual remnants of the ghostly murderer as far down or away as he could. The other voices had disappeared as if killed off by the killer's mere voice. This place was no longer a place of absence, how funny that it only took a fight for this world to be reborn in the same way it died…. It died, 

Osamodas had never once thought about what his destruction led to. He landed on the world, fought, took what he wanted, did what he wanted, then left for the next world to do it again. It was fun, no reason to stop. Rushu and his siblings had always agreed with him on the subject. It was living in the moment. 

But not here, not here where he had to face the fact that there was nothing left. That destruction was fun until destruction was impossible to the point where everything was either ground into dust or had melted into the ocean. Until the only thing left to destroy was yourself.

Suddenly the trophy of skins he wore on his mane felt heavy. Osamodas did what he never thought he would ever do.

He puked, in disgust, the bile rose up, and Osamodas didn’t even try to hold it back. Spiritia jerked in surprise. The battle in the background grew silent at the realization that the Deity that conquered planets, caused wars, and skinned his own enemies just puked out of emotion rather than illness.

They were silent for a long time.

“I’m done,” Osamodas declared, his voice raspier than it had ever been, yet it rang loudly on this silent world. His stomach was still churning. All three dragons looked in surprise and disgust, Concern only a mere twinkle in their eyes. Teasing bloody grins directed at their tiny, beastly companion.

“Good, but you should probably rest more just in case,” Helioboros suggested Dragon blood casually running down his scales from the battle. The bloody dragons threatened to cause another moment of pure sickness.

“NO,” Osamodas asserted. The dragons seemed confused, not too sure what to do with themselves.

“I’m, what I mean is that I’m done with the conquering, I’m done with the traveling, I’m done with the fighting, I’m DONE.” 

Ouronigride and Helioboros eyes widened almost guiltily, but if it was guilt, it was only for a second. The dragons were reminded of a sad mortal, unused to bloodshed during their necessary killing spree. Out of habit, they almost crushed him. Helioboros decided to wipe some of the blood off his shiny white scales instead. A gesture Osamodas felt like he could appreciate for eternity. 

“...”

The strong silence lasted ages until finally, the shifting of all three dragons gave sound to confront it. They seemed to talk to each other without speaking, their expressions shifting as they looked at one another.

“We can’t,” Spiritia said gently, Shrinking to give Osamodas a pat on the back, the other Dragons shrunk as well. Something they rarely ever did, with always being in the midst of battle and all. They were a similar size to him now, walking upright on two legs.

“I’m not fighting.” 

“...”

“What else are we going to do?” Ouronigride huffed disdain leaking from the black Dragon’s words. He talked as if Osamodas was a small child that needed to be lectured. Spiritia gave him a good wack before looking at the dragon's scuffed battle ground.. Spiritia stared at the patch of revitalized soil the battling dragons had created. He blew a puff of his elemental breeze on it. Bright green buds began to emerge immediately.

The smoke from Ouronigride and Helioboros’s fight clumped together with Spiritia’s strange mist. It began to glow a bright blue, forming familiar stardust. Though it was in a strange form, Osamodas could recognize it anywhere, especially in a place like this, where there was nothing else to distract his senses.

“You can create wakfu,” Osamodas said in wonder. The dragons shifted awkwardly.

“I mean, I guess,” Helioboros said rather sarcastically, before being whacked over the head by Spiritia. Osamodas turned to them.

“Why destroy, when you can create… why not stay here, we could have our own world, a fresh canvas,” Osamodas rambled 

“...”

“We’ve tried settling. It didn’t really work out for us, Osamodas,” Spiritia sighed. Osamodas raised a brow in curiosity. They never talked of the before often.

“You know how we like to take things and hoard them, don’t you?” Ouronigride asked. Osamodas nodded” Yeah, well, the urge to do that is basically ten times worse when we have a home to store it in.”

“We can never truly rest until we find something so valuable that we will never want to destroy, pillage, and hoard ever again… Until then, we simply can’t help it,” Spiritia explained.

“It’s simply much better to look for it, kill and move on, rather than insanely hoard while keeping alive the tortured locals,” Helioboros added.

Osamodas knew instinct, and he knew it well, the inescapable urge to be _animal,_ and it never went away. He understood a bit better now… he supposed. While he was out there having the time of his life causing suffering, these dragons tried to find something to curb their desire to continue.

“You’ve been trying to stop this the whole time,” Osamodas breathed. The Dragons continued to look uncomfortable.

“Look, you don’t know what it’s like, constantly searching for something, not knowing what it is, keeping every little thing, because without it you’re empty, your nothing.” Ouronigride Roared

“... an entire world isn’t enough for you!?” Osamodas wished so bad he had stopped his bloodshed for just one minute to get to know his traveling companions better… Is that all they were traveling companions?

“It will never be enough,” Spiritia hissed. He was the gentlest out of the trinity of dragons. If he couldn’t bypass this instinct of eternal greed, no one could. 

Despite vaguely understanding their struggle, he still felt anger sizzle above the immense pain he was still under. The screams and the killer’s voice seemed louder yet were a mere background buzz. How could an entire world, an entire planet, not be enough for them. How could they stand it after seeing this place, after seeing where it would lead them. HOW COULD IT NOT PUSH AWAY THEIR INSTINCT LIKE IT DID HIS! How could they stand the thought of killing one more?

“Wh-, How can you look at this and- a” and Osamodas’ throat suddenly became too swollen to finish. The Dragons to their credit, took a long moment of silence to look over the world, trying to grasp the same feelings that haunted Osamodas. The look on their faces told Osamodas they had succeeded, but it was short-lived as their expressions hardened.

“We would do the same to protect or get what we wanted. We must try to find something to kill us or call us. Until then, we’ll be creating wastelands, maybe never as bad as this, but… we simply can’t stay, Osamodas.” 

It sounded Like Spiritia, but Osamodas wasn’t sure which Dragon said it, but it didn’t matter. They all agreed on that point. **“Hart, I will have My Hart, and every single one of you will be massacar_ed!”**

“Then leave,” Osamodas whispers, yet everyone hears. No movement was made. The silence threatened to suffocate Osamodas, to the point where he wanted to take it back and beg like a withering mortal to be taken somewhere else. But he couldn’t, not when it was so fitting to be trapped here, where destruction ultimately led to—a place he deserved to be.

Nothing more was said that day.

The following weeks were filled with bouts of fire and mist, creating more of those ethereal spheres of blue wakfu dust. Each day the planet felt less empty. Osamodas was ecstatic. He had a say in what thrived and what didn’t. What type of gasses filled the air, what color the grass and sky was and so on,

Creation was something he decided he would do for the rest of his life if he could, But the dragons had to leave. If they didn’t leave, they had no doubt that they would be this world’s downfall. 

The dragons seemed to genuinely enjoy Osamodas wonderment. This didn’t save him from their teasing.

“All it took was an empty planet to scare you.”

But ultimately, it was empty provoking. Their teasing had lost its sting now that he knew. Osamodas was scared of destroying everything into nothing. They were scared that they were looking for nothing. The possibility that their existence was to be monsters for eternity. It was too soon when they grew restless. All too soon when they had to leave.

“When we see them, we’ll send the other gods your way. Sadida will be all too excited to join you here.” Spiritia affirmed

“I think most of them will be excited about a whole world for them… better to hide it, keep it for yourself, I say,” Helioboros smiled mischievously, which earned him a wack from Spiritia.

“When it comes time to make life here, I’ll keep them in mind then. A species to rule over might be fun.” Osamodas shrugged, trying to forget the fact that the Dragons may never come back. Each Dragon said their goodbyes in their own dragon way.

Spiritia hugged him, something so rarely done, Osamodas wasn’t even sure if they had done it before. His rainbow scales shimmered as he leaned in to hug. His magic mist followed as he pulled away.

Helioboros bit him. An excellent old scar for the old times… great...

Ouronigride doesn’t believe in goodbyes. They’re immortal. They’ll meet again. He, unfortunately, looks away while the other primordials play with Osamodas before they all have to leave to find _it_.

Everything was happening so fast. Everything was fast. They left, Osamodas was alone. He created, created creatures first. They were the easiest. The other gods slowly showed up as well. Osamodas would tell you the order, but in all honesty, he didn’t keep track.

“What do you call this place,” Feca asked. All the gods paused to look at Osamodas. He never really thought about it… 

“The world of ten” Osamodas shrugged, Feca gave him a long stare.

“Is it because there’s ten of us?” Iop asked. Cra quickly humfed. Feca blinked

“Osamodas, what happens when there’s more of us?”

“...”

“World of eleven,” Osamodas simply replies. Feca Blinked again…

“You can’t just change the world’s name every time a god joins us,” Feca insisted.

“...”

“World of twelve will be next,” Osamodas says as if he didn’t hear the goddess who was looking at him unimpressed.

“There aren’t going to be twelve of us… it’s crowded enough as it is.” Feca says strictly

Soon the Human race was made. They were pale of skin and loved the beautiful green world as much as Osamodas did. They were noble in a weird way, or maybe that was just Osamodas loving them.

they were able to change depending on who they supported. It wasn’t long before Osamodas had a pack of followers, who called themselves… Osamodians. Well, okay, he can work with that.

A few humans came to him about a magical mountain, Mount Zinit he named it, the name just came to him. The mountain was strange, but Osamodas didn’t remember creating it, nor did the other gods.

… the strange portals that had mysteriously appeared were a bit weird too, the structures were always there. It was only when the world was recharged that they started working again. Oh… the humans started calling them zaps, and apparently, Xelor made them? It Wouldn’t be the first time they made something.

Then he found a zap to incarnum, the realm of the afterlife. Going through it filled him with more than just nausea as he felt vengeful spirits wisp by him, spirits from his days as a conqueror. He manipulated the realm near his world. Not only was it a good home now, but souls could reincarnate periodically from incarnum 

As the deed was done, Osamodas felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Nothing could make up for what he’s done, but giving the souls a way to return to a happy world, albeit as a human, made him feel better.

…

Osamodas’s head jerked, a familiar _Thwap, thwap_ of leathery wings met his ears. A few humans shrieked in horror. A few yelled in awe because, of course, Osamodas told them about the legendary beasts.

The Osamodians were practically hitting their heads on the ground on their way to bow. The Dragons were no less regal than Osamodas remembered. He walked up to them, seeing them dip their heads. Osamodas honestly couldn’t read them at the moment.

“It looks amazing, Osamodas,” Spiritia was the first to say.” you’ve done much good,” he added. Ouronigride rolled his eyes, seemingly tired of the mortals that dared crowd him. Helioboros was just grinning stupidly. Osamodas smiled

“Did you find it?” Osamodas asked

The mood immediately shifted, negative, Osamodas didn’t even need to ask. The rainbow in Spiritia’s scales was dulled, and Helioboros’ pure white scales hadn’t been properly cleaned in what must have been a long time. Ouronigride, as always, just looked away from the sappy reunion. Ugh feelings

“We have something to tell you, but first you must tell us… you haven’t aged a day, old friend.” Spiritia asked, looking over Osamodas critically. Osamodas blinked. He hadn’t noticed the Dragon’s dirty bearing to be age. They always seemed to be eternal. Osamodas knew he could age, but… somehow, his human followers fueled him.

Then again, the whole thing was debatable. Aging didn’t exactly work the same with them as it did for others. They could never die, at least not really.

“Turns out when you are worshiped, the prayers can give you power.” 

The dragons seemed to immediately understand, nodding. they had encountered many who gained power from their status. It only made sense that Osamodas could be the same.

“We think we’ve found it,” Spirtia says, slowly breathing in this world’s fresh air.

“Really?!”

“No,” Ouronigride snarls. “Nothing will ever be enough.”

“However,” Helioboros looks at Spiritia to continue.

“Osamodas, as soon as we left, our instincts went wilder than they had been in thousands of years,” Spiritia continued” We may never find what we were looking for. Maybe no dragon ever will. But your presence makes our instincts more bearable.” 

“You’re saying that I curb your instincts,” Osamodas asks, surprised. They stay silent 

“Sort of… you’re not what we were looking for... but you’ll have to do,” Helioboros clicks. Osamodas rolls his eyes. But hugs them regardless. Except for Ouronigride, he doesn’t believe in hugs.

The dragons stole and caused much trouble, but it was far and in-between. _Ourongride also may have burnt down Bonta~_ But no one focused on that! The dragons claimed they were far better than they were, and who knows, maybe what they were looking for could be found on the road of creation.

Osmaodas was shocked to hear of a blue dragon looking for something in Bonta. He rushed over only to find the Dragon had already left. He hopes that Dragon finds it. He goes back to incarnum but looks back out on his world, his world that started from the literal absence of it all.

He did do good. He decided or at least tried to. Osamodas took off his skins, Once worn as a trophy, then worn as a sickening reminder of what he’d done. He could let it go now, especially knowing that even dragons and past vengeful souls could rest here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a twoshot instead of a oneshot because I wanted to hit multiply point of views. Writing out Osamodas and his dragons took forever, mostly because I felt like I had to spend more time with them. After all we don't really get to canonically get to know these characters so I had to establish them.  
> I hope you enjoyed, tell me what interested you, what you want to see more of, etc.  
> I may edit this in the future because I actually made some art for this chapter. Well I may just post the images in Wattpad, who knows. 
> 
> Part two will be showcasing Adamai and Grougaloragran, those are characters we are all better acquainted with.


	3. Looking For Something (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adamai's Hoard instincts come rolling in, yay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wrote this a bit late at night so their might be some mess ups. don't be afraid to critique them.

Grougal looked at a missing section of his hoard that seemed to have mysteriously disappeared. Then looked to a guilty dragonet who was failing to keep the evidence of his thievery off his face.

Grougal, to be honest, was a tad bit impressed with him. Grougal wasn’t entirely sure how the light-colored Whelp got such a large portion of his hoard out of sight without him noticing. He looked between the two knowingly, Adamai avoided eye contact, and Grougal knew he wouldn’t have to do much except wait. The little Dragonet would break from the pressure. 

But is that the right thing to do? Grougal had a, wait until they came to you, type of teaching, but it usually backfired more often than not. Grougal clicked his tongue against his teeth. Adamai would go to him about something, the consequences would show themselves then. 

Grougal wasn’t particularly worried about the missing portion of his hoard. He didn’t think Adamai would do much with it except hoard it, and Grougal was simply too old to always scold Adamai. If Grougal was a few millennia younger, Adamai would get a lot more than a scolding.

Grougal coughed. Was it normal for dragonets to steal? He honestly couldn’t remember. It felt like this island, and these ruins were all there were. Maybe he should go outside with Adamai. After all, he couldn’t remember the last time he did.

Adamai never brought up the stolen gold. Grougal felt a little hurt. He would have probably given Adamai some if he’d asked. Grougal wanted Adamai to work and earn what he had. Still, Kamas weren’t naturally found on the island. They didn’t exactly grow on trees. That and it never hurt to give a little gift from time to time. 

Grougal wasn’t sure if Adamai liked his gifts or not. After a gift was given, he would never see it again. Adamai always acted so cheerfully when offered a reward for nothing. The Dragon would hug it, then run off with it. Then grougal would never ever even catch a whiff of it again.

Grougal wondered if he should talk to Adamai, but he honestly couldn’t remember what he wanted to speak to him about. If it was necessary, he’d remember later… probably. 

The Dragonet looked guilty the whole dinner, okay, so maybe it was necessary.

“Adamai”

It was all he had to say for the Dragonet to burst into tears, unfitting for a dragon, but Grougal let it slide. The Dragonet told him he stole but begged to keep his stolen gold and wouldn’t tell him where he had miraculously hidden it. Grougal nodded as if he understood

“Grougaloragran understands that you want the Kama’s. Grougal doesn’t want you coming on hunts anymore. Now you and Grougaloragran can both get what we want.” Grougal declared as if any of that made sense. Adamai’s expression immediately fell. 

The truth was, Grougal did want Adamai to hunt with him. The Whelp made it easy for Grougal to rest his joints. However, it was the only punishment Grougal could think of that Adamai would be unhappy with. The Whelp opened his mouth as if to voice a great whine until he thought better of it and closed it promptly. It didn’t stop the young beast from throwing a silent, Whelp sized fit.

Grougal sighed as he realized Adamai would not give in, guess he was hunting by himself. Adamai would hopefully give in at one point or another and give back what he had stolen. Grougal huffed, deciding to save his food for the next day. Grougal didn’t eat as much as he used to.

The next few days, Grougal did the hunting. Adamai had taken to collecting random things before taking them to the place of no return. The next evening, when they were once again eating dinner, Adamai got antsy. It was just this time of the evening, the Dragonet had certain moods at specific times. Dinner time, when the moon was out, and his energy almost low enough for sleep, he lacked restraint, but he also lacked his anger. Adamai did a lot of overthinking at dinner. Grougal wished he’d stop doing that, especially the fidgeting. 

Was that a bad thing that he didn’t like those things? The fidgeting was a bit familia--

“Grougal,” the Whelp whispered as if he didn’t want Grougal to hear. Grougal looked down at the tiny thing. Adamai shrunk under his gaze. He looked rather distressed. Lying could do that to someone. Actually, it could do much worse.

“I have to have that gold,” Adamai cried, Grougal’s head tilted

“And what about Grougaloragran” Grougal provoked

“You already have so much, but I just can’t” Adamai was sobbing now, Grougal’s head tilted a bit more in thought. How out of character for Adamai. There were other times where Adamai had gone out of character. Each of those times showed a new aspect to his mysterious character. Yet… his particular personality wasn’t worth a wasted lesson in why stealing is wrong.

“Can’t what?” Grougal rasped, his voice as gravelly as always.

“I can’t give it back! It’s so important!” Adamai shrieked, not angrily, just rather helplessly. 

“But what if the gold is important to Grougal. Especially since the original owner is Grougal,” Grougal almost growled, ” a stolen Item will never be with the thief, not really, Adamai.” 

The Whelp didn’t seem to understand. Adamai looked around as if the answer to his problems would be anywhere outside this conversation. 

“Why is it important?” Adamai suddenly piped. Grougal raised a brow at that.

“I don’t know. Why is it important, Adamai?” 

Adamai shrieked in frustration. Such emotions didn’t help anyone, Grougal would know. Flashbacks of stupid, impulsive actions appeared in his mind for a mere few seconds. Grougal closed his eyes, immediately trying to grasp the old memories. A few breaths, and he couldn’t even remember what he was doing.

“Please, I have to know!” Adamai yelped Grougal paused

“You don’t even know why.” Grougal mused out loud.

“Why do I have to hoard stuff all the time.”

… ah, yes, that made much more sense. This was a situation Grougal knew how to handle better. Hoarding was a primary behavior for any dragon. Maybe Adamai’s instincts were more potent at this age. 

“Adamai, you will always have a little urge to take and hoard things you find fancy. It’s a part of dragon instinct. It’s always okay to indulge in this instinct. Still, you should learn to control yourself, especially when you want to take from another. Don’t you think that? I feel the same way you do about those items.” Grougal chided, Grougal hoped he sounded gentle. His growly voice made that hard sometimes.

Adamai seemed to stand in place for a moment or to-

” why?” Adamai askes

“Hmm?”

“Why? Why Do we do this? I don’t like it,” Adamai cries” I don’t want to always feel like this,” Grougal’s brow knitted together.

“Do you not like your hoard? Is that why you stole from Grougal?” Grougal asked, not quite getting it. The Whelp just wailed,

“You’re not listening!” He shrieked. Grougal would be worried about his hearing if he still had it. Adamai swiftly flew out of the dining area. So much for solving this tonight, more hunting for Grougal, he supposed.

The following days were uneasy. For some reason, it felt weird for the atmosphere to be tense with a child. Grougal didn’t quite understand. Personally, he loved his hoard, loved what he had. He actually slept in it.

Then again, Grougal didn’t remember collecting things as vigorously as Adamai was. Grougal felt like even if he was compelled to obsessively collect for his hoard, it still wouldn’t bother him.

He looked up from his hunting to see none other than the troublesome Whelp himself. Grougal gave a worried look. Adamai seemed very stressed in every sense of the word. It looked like he was looking for something. He had a little pouch with him stored with all sorts of things… useless things, like bark, stick, and a few pretty rocks.

Adamai grabbed a poor Beagull from the beach, with no intent to kill it. He just kept it alive. It was disturbing. Grougal tried to think back to his childhood. He tried hard, it only earned him a headache. The memories were simply too far away for him to reach.

“What are you doing.”

Adamai jumps, “collecting, you said I could Collect whatever I want!”

“I meant with the poor bird. You’re not hunting without me, are you!” Grougal growled Adamai speedily shook his head

“It’s mine.”

Grougal tilted his head at that.

“The bird?”

“Yes”

“Are you going to eat it?” Grougal asks. Adamai shook his head.

“It’s mine.”

Grougal felt a memory suddenly pop in his brain. He remembered himself saying something similar, but nothing else.

“You collect birds?” was all Grougal could think to say. The bird in question was shrieking for its freedom, trying everything to get out of the whelps grasp. Adamai shifted, tears in the corners of his eyes. 

“I don’t know, it’s never enough, I’ll take anything, I don’t care,” Adamai shrieked before flying off. What in the Great Dragons name was going on… that poor bird, Grougal, should have put it out of its misery.

Grougal tried not to think that somewhere on this island was a collection of live birds being hoarded like objects. He needed something to eat. At dinner, he would tell Adamai that if he takes what he wants without caring for others, Grougal could do the same. 

He could take Adamai’s dragon and wakfu lessons away, he can take hunting privileges… what else was there to take. Well, whatever, Grougal would find out. Adamai wouldn’t like him one bit after this was done.

The conversation was barely necessary, as the Dragon was too enthralled in his hoarding.

Adamai began to ask question after question about hoards. Grougal made sure to note in each one that a dragon’s hoard was their own and Nobody else’s. Nobody else’s stuff should be in it. Adamai seemed determined to find a way to get rid of the instinct. He seemed to already know that his instinct would be less focused on collecting and more focused on protecting it when the hoard was up to his satisfaction.

“The only way to make the feeling go away is to make yourself satisfied with your hoard?” Adamai asked. Grougal nodded,” how do you become satisfied with it.” 

“It’s rather simple you take what you like and leave what you don’t. It must be made up of things that make you feel good to be surrounded by. It can be something that is an activity, like a ball or some books. It can also just be some shiny objects,” Grougal huffed, then pause” it can even be family” Adamai seemed confused.

“You put family in your hoard?” Adamai asked, listening intently. Grougal chuckled,

“You’re a part of my hoard Adamai, One of the most important parts of it. I like having you around; I like to be surrounded by your energy. I take care of you, and I protect you. You’re special in that one day you’re going to go out and have a hoard of your own. However, you are your own Dragon, you will never truly be in my hoard, but you’ll always be a part of it.” Grougal taught, Adamai nodded.

For a moment, Grougal had some memories speed by, a fresh breeze that smelled of companionship, and a flash of Ivory hair, pale, fleshy skin, and a brown cloak. A bit of knowledge accompanied the memories as well. Grougal realized with these new memories that Adamai was incredibly young to start having these instincts. A pang of protectiveness for his little dragon brother shot through him, then he paused. Wait, Adamai was his brother? He honestly forgot why he was taking care of him.

The gold was given back, Grougal took a moment to appreciate that the little Dragon could take and bring back as much as he did. Gold was heavy! The Dragon burst into tears, saying he didn’t feel any better. If anything, he felt worse. Grougal knew it may take time for his possessiveness of the gold to go away.

Grougal assumed that that was the end of it, oh how wrong he was. Adamai was able to join him on hunts again, which was very lovely, Grougal’s muscles ached. The young, strong Dragonet, who wasn’t even in his prime yet, wasn’t even rusty. 

Weeks came and went, and Grougal started to notice that Adamai’s Hoarding WAS a bit excessive. He seemed to be taking the bones from their kills now. He took sand from the beach. He took every stick and pebble he came across. It was starting to interrupt hunts. Even then, he tried to feign ignorance to his brother’s obsessive habits. Every Dragon went through this phase of their life. This was normal. However, there came a day where he couldn’t deny the strange nature of Adamai’s hoarding any longer.

One day he heard a howl, a sharp whine of agony from some poor animal. “An easy kill is an easy kill, right?” Grougal thought as he glided toward it, to find a place closed in with rocks and brambles. It must be Adamai’s hoard. Well, the animal was definitely dead now. Protecting a brother’s hoard was just as important as protecting your own. 

He walked in before immediately turning back to gasp and cough. His old lungs rattled a bit at the sudden force. The smell was pungent, Grougal was tempted to leave Adamai’s smelly hoard to Adamai, but it wasn’t the right thing to do. He sighed as he went in only to freeze at the--wha-

Grougal didn’t know why he was surprised, he saw adamai collect these items, but it didn’t look like a hoard, not a proper one at least. All the items were literally anything you could find on the island, including live animals. Animals that shrieked at his arrival, including the Boowolf that had called him down. Some were dead, some were alive, too injured to leave. This was sick. All the items were thrown around as if Adamai didn’t really care for them. in a proper hoard, everything was necessary, and it was never so strewn about in a horrific mess.

Grougal left to immediately find Adamai. Grougal knew what was wrong. The horrific hoard brought back terrible memories of a time when he had once done the same. He remembered the morbid obsession with anything he could get his claws on. Take, protect, hoard, forget and repeat, without a care for what it was. It was not the way a hoard should be run.

A hoard was a nest made up of objects that were symbolic and held sentimental value. It was made for the sole purpose of being happy and safe with your horde-mates. It was the mental aspect that was important. It was that aspect that Adamai was undoubtedly trying and failing to find.

“ADAMAI!” he called, finding the Dragonet on the beach. He was collecting seashells, something he had done obsessively since he hatched. It hadn’t been to an unhealthy degree until now, but Grougal still felt foolish for not seeing the behavior for what it was. 

The Dragonet immediately stood to attention, clutching his bag close as Grougal swiftly landed. 

“IT’S DINNER TIME COME, WE NEED TO TALK” Grougal roared. Adamai looked longingly at the beach.

“But I can’t, I-I’m still looking for, for hoard stuff,” Adamai whined, but Grougal’s expression told him there was no getting out of whatever was going on.

“Can I put this stuff back in my hoard first?”

“Actually, I was going to give you more advice on your hoard,” Grougal said, more calmly now that he was closer to the Whelp. Adamai perked at the mention of his hoard and followed Grougal to their eating spot.

“Adamai,” Grougal started. The whelps ears twitched. “I realize that I may be forgetful… I’m very old, you see, no use in denying it.” Adamai nodded, a bit unimpressed as if he had heard this before.” please tell me that I told you about Yugo...” Adamai looked confused

“Who”

Grougal was the worst dragon brother ever… make that the second worst, he thought as a flash of blond hair, white robes, and pink scales went through his mind. Before the thought became hazy.

“You know how I said that family members can count as your hoard?” Adamai nodded seemingly impatiently. “Well. you see...” Grougal was trying to think of a way to bring this up.

“Do you know what an eliatrope is”

Adamai brightened at that” Eliatropes are a people who were related to dragons,eliatropes and Dragons were so close, they were considered to be the same species.” 

So Grougal remembered the Eliatropes, but not Yugo, the last eliatrope, he needed help.

“Y-yes, Our two races were close, almost impossibly so. Every Dragon has an eliatrope Adamai, even if they are not born with one.” Grougal recalled, yet Adamai was just confused

“You see… some eliatropes and dragons were twins born from the same Dofus. Those who weren’t born with a dragon or eliatrope bonded with one. No dragon or eliatrope in the entire Krosmos are destined to be alone.” Adamai thought about it

“So I have an eliatrope somewhere that I will bond with one day… why,” Adamai asked.

“Yes, well no, Adamai, when you hatched, you hatched with an eliatrope twin. So you won’t have to find a random eliatrope to bond with,” Grougal managed. Adamai’s eyes widened into dinner plates.

“I HAVE A TWIN,” Adamai flipped out.

“Yes, yes, now listen -”

The Dragonet did not, in fact, listen, still reveling over the news of a sibling. The thought of why they were separated never came into his mind over his excitement. All he could manage was,” WHERE ARE THEY!”

“If you’ll listen, I’ll get to it,” Grougal growled. The Dragonet shut up immediately” Adamai… when a dragon doesn’t have an eliatrope partner or is living with the absence of one… it can have a … negative effect on a dragon’s behavior.” Grougal paused to look at adamai, who looked thoughtful

“You’re worried that will happen to me because my eliatrope twin isn’t here,” Adamia pieced together.

“I believe that it already has happened. You see… an eliatrope is the most important part of a dragon’s familial hoard. In the absence of one, most will obsessively try to fill their absence with other things. Of course, this doesn’t really work, so it’s quite the unhealthy routine.”

“So my eliatrope sibling is what I’ve been looking for,” Adamai breathed “where are they? How do you deal with it?” Adamai cried. Grougal didn’t know how to tell him that he just wasn’t equipped to take care of a human-like baby. They were high maintenance. After the first month of accidentally starving the poor thing because he literally forgot about it, he didn’t want to be in charge of it anymore.

Grougal went up to Adamai to hug him. The absence of the eliatropes drove some dragons mad. Grougal didn’t realize it could hit so young. Grougal was suddenly very worried for Yugo. Unfortunately, all he could do was focus on Adamai. What did Grougal do to curb the insatiable desire to fill the eliatrope hole in his very being.? He didn’t have an eliatrope, did he?

A flash of wakfu, brown, ivory hair, and a nervous laugh,  _ Chibi _

The memory was at the tip of his tongue, but he simply couldn’t recall. 

“I find that it always helps to build your hoard as if they were still there, instead of trying to find things to replace them. You think of things that they would like. I don’t care much for Kamas...” Grougal mused, trying so hard to remember his own twin… did he even have one? Adamai sat patiently,” but I know that the kamas will help the eliatropes one day… the gold is for them… was for them, it would have helped them one day.” His voice breaks.

Grougal had forgotten why he had hoarded the valued gold. He vaguely recalled himself thinking that the eliatropes would need a treasury when they returned. Now he wondered if he had just tried to forget that they were gone.

“Adamai, you are so very lucky… promise me something” Adamai looked up expectantly.

“You will never intentionally hurt your twin, ever.”

  
  


“But what if he hurts me.”

  
  


Grougal was about to answer that he wouldn’t, and if he did, it didn’t matter, But then he thought of the dependence Adamai would no doubt have on Yugo. If Yugo ended up being rotten, what, what would be for the best.

“Don’t hurt him, Adamai, but he shouldn’t hurt you either” Adamai nodded, not fully understanding, but he knew the information was vital.

“I miss him,” Adamai said. Grougal wanted to laugh. The Whelp didn’t know how good he had it. Suddenly he imagined Adamai hatching somewhere far away without his brother, doomed to search and be a slave to his own instincts forever.

“I know… even the very first Dragon. The great Dragon himself is useless without Eliatrope...Eliatropes, Dragons, alone they simply can’t be.” Grougal knew.

“I miss them too. Never met a dragon who didn’t, “

Adamai, I don’t remember, Great Dragon. I wish I could remember, but I promise you that you and your brother are going to be so important. I don’t know why but you’ll be so important.”

So important

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *typing out Grougal*  
> Auto Correct: “heh, must mean google”  
> Auto correct: [:  
> Me: /:
> 
> I'm a starving artist, feed me with feedback, heheh get it FEEEED-back. Okay I'll stop, also please keep reading.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N::In the English dub, the message that Alibert gets never mentions Yugo’s name, Yet its the same name that Yugo has in his past lives. Qilby knew it before asking, Grougal Knew it… Adamai knew it.  
> I like to think that even Grougal didn’t know their names, and instead found out Adamai’s name the same way Alibert did. Then recognized Yugo due to how familiar the names Yugo & Adamai were.  
> It always baffled me how Alibert assumedly just got Yugo’s name right, so I made this… It makes more sense to me.
> 
> Let me know what moments you liked, if anything was lost in editing, and what you would like to see in the future.


End file.
